Lost Opportunity
by Deandra
Summary: Choices can make all the difference in a person's life. One small decision when I was young set me on a course I came to regret. One-shot, Eomer/OC.


_**A/N: Have been trying to work on an E/L story for several months now, but life keeps getting in the way. Then, for some reason, this came to me last night. Perhaps it will tide you over until someone posts something new. LBJ still has a story in the works to fill our need for Eomer stories. This is dedicated to Glorybee for her support and encouragement as I struggle to write that E/L story (or anything else) that is pending.**_

**Lost Opportunity**

Everyone has moments in their life that stand out with rich clarity when looked back upon at a later time. With any luck, they are good and warm memories, and the outcome of that moment was pleasant, but too often those are the times we regret.

When you are young, you think that you have all the time in the world. I knew Eomer for several years before we both reached the age where the opposite sex was more than merely another person. He was always so fixed upon becoming a soldier, and sometimes other considerations were shoved aside to follow that pursuit. There was always more sword practice, more riding, more spear maneuvers to learn, and new weapons to master. He was ever a handsome boy, and maturity only added to the gifts of nature. His training for battle honed his body until it was powerful and much appreciated by the ladies, myself included.

I am not sure when precisely Eomer's feelings for me flowered into more than mere friendship, but I remember clearly when I first learned of it. A sudden summer storm drove us under the eaves of the barn, and pressed there together looking out at the downpour, he awkwardly stole a kiss.

I was surprised, and I suppose it was pleasant enough despite our inexperience, but I could not say that any passion flared in me. Eomer kissing me? How very strange it seemed, and I laughed.

His face had clouded over, and he led the way into the barn, never speaking of the occasion again. Once in awhile I would good naturedly try to tease him about it, asking if he had kissed any more girls in the barn's shadows, but he saw no humor in my remarks. His dark countenance did not encourage my levity, and eventually I gave it up. He truly needed to laugh more. Serious Eomer, boring Eomer, singleminded Eomer – no, I had no interest in such a boy, regardless of his being the king's nephew. I wanted only gaiety and laughter surrounding me.

After my first rejection, Eomer would still approach me to dance, occasionally, but always there was a wariness in his eyes, unwilling to expose himself to further ridicule or rejection. I paid his hesitation little mind, and cared only about my own enjoyment. If I pleased to dance with him, I did, but others could just as readily claim my hand on the floor. Like a butterfly, I flitted from one flower to the next, thinking only of myself.

As time went on, though, both of us grew more mature, and I began to consider Eomer not so very dull as before. He rode to battle with an eored, and acquitted himself well – well enough that eventually he rose to the rank of Third Marshal. If his looks, and relation to the king were not sufficient, that title sealed the notice of the ladies, and many would eagerly have accepted his attentions...including me. For all his shortcomings, there would be advantage as his bride, and certainly I had a better hope with him than with Theodred, who was years older and whom I barely knew.

Only now darkness had covered our lands, and Eomer thought not of pretty faces and stolen kisses. All his waking hours were spent thinking of battle, preparing for battle or actually fighting them. When the Riders of the Mark rode to the aid of Gondor, we all despaired. Despite the victory at the Hornburg, it seemed our world was unavoidably being destroyed by the evil in the East. Though we retained some small hope, I do not believe most thought many of our men would return - but they did. At least some of them did, the most notable being Eomer, now King of the Eorlingas.

He cut a fine figure in full armor, sitting easily on his stallion. As he rode victorious into Edoras, I was not the only woman watching and hoping to catch his eye. With battle done, and new responsibilities, surely he would seek a wife and look to secure his line upon the throne. And why should he not look to the girl from whom he stole that first kiss? Might he not harbor some affection for me after all these years?

But when he returned with Theoden King's body a few months later, a dark-haired beauty from the south was in the party. Much as the ladies of Edoras did not like it, there was no mistaking his interest in her, nor the fact that she returned it. It was not many months later when their betrothal was announced, and now she stands before us on this fine spring day, speaking her vows to Lord and land.

Some women cry tears of joy at weddings, but in truth, I cannot say that is the source of mine. For me, there is only bitter regret.

THE END

2/27/12


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